Wait a moment I'm thinking,
The sadness syncing,
Maybe i'm dead,  I'm never blinking
always in a room closed, in my head
And thinking, and inking, in my bed
Never awake, always sinking.

Bottles by the bed, in my head
with fear shed, and years bled
and my sadness been drinking
All my tears and pain,

Maybe i'm insane, tell me, what's my name ? What's my name ?  Tell me, what's my name ? I'll ask again, what's my name ? Please whisper!

There's nobody else in my brain, It's so filthy and i cannot even look at the man in the mirror.
He makes feel so ugly.




From Compton to the streets
I heard their names
From a random city
I try but i have no game
I have no name, and no shame
Feed me your hollow
I'll eat away a part of your blame
I'll follow you around the world
Just tell me my name ?



I'm no one, no heart, maybe someone
But no scars, I'm tired and done,
so fired up,
In love, here to lose and burn.




I'll never learn that i can
Never ever reach the sky
More lies, sure i'll cry,
If someday i die, before my time
Maybe it's all in my mind
The walls and the rhymes
The kind man and the blind
I don't understand but it's fine

I'm not gonna make it
I hate it, hate that fact
In fact, it makes me want to
Not be mad, makes me sad
That I wasn't raised to be bad
Taught to be mad,

So normal, wearing formal
Staying dormant, fearing gold
And the glittering ornaments
There's no fun in fancy garments
I don't have any green for the
Entitlement,

Maybe I was wrong to seek
Enlightenment,
Not meant to speak anything foreign

Always looking for questions on the line, online, on random forums, what's mine
Whats yours, nobody knows and that's the moment, where you can find your torment,

The pain would still grow and my voice will still hurt, fill my share of world with words and more dirt,

Dawn to dust, gone with rust, here i lust lest i fall in love, and i know i cannot keep up, i'm so fed up, stuck within myself and locked, with no one to talk, not enough space for me to walk, i wear no face and i am who i am not, when I see in the mirror it stops, the clock is shattered, and it doesn't matter who won.

Wait a moment I'm thinking,
The sadness syncing,
Maybe i'm dead,  I'm never blinking
always in a room closed, in my head
And thinking, and inking, in my bed
Never awake, always sinking.

Bottles by the bed, in my head
with fear shed, and years bled
and my sadness been drinking
All my tears and pain,

Maybe i'm insane, tell me, what's my name ? What's my name ?  Tell me, what's my name ? I'll ask again, what's my name ? Please whisper!

There's nobody else in my brain, It's so filthy and i cannot even look at the man in the mirror.
He makes feel so ugly.


that old man on the pavement has no eyes,
It's better to be cold than to live in a fear you cannot describe,
With every tear we hide, more of us, and more of us die,
every year we make a resolution for pollution and we try,
to fly without wings, we can do without things,
they say sky is the limit, but nobody asks why, why can't we search for it within

People going bezerk over little things, and you cannot win,
Or you'll be left in a riddle, felt alight for a while and now i'm back in the middle playing second fiddle to my heart that is brittle,

My pain won't wither, and they won't whisper to me why they linger

All around my soul, masking me whole, and i keep asking why am I so cold ?
Where is the life, my rhymes, that line when I need something to hold

Nothing's new and I've said everything I had to say before,
Painting my blues, as i can, but I don't understand, i'm never sure,

Have no clue, they've locked the door, and now i'm a mad-man.

And the madness grows, the sadness knows, as the winds blows,

And the sand eats the earth, we were all dirt, we are all dust.

And nobody knows.




Yeah, i read, i read all day
I bleed, i feed all day, i see
I'm free all day, and it repeats
It eats into my brain and it feeds
It sinks deep inside my viens
And inks me when I'm asleep
I blink and what i am think-ing
Makes no sense in a heart beat
It's so hard to beat what you need
And what you keep is so hard to reach
Its better to be ripped apart in pieces
Than to leave it out in the open to feed
So broken and apart but still i greed
No smile on my face but i still greet
Every tear with the same surprise
My brain is in a free- fall i cannot
Describe, i don't subscribe to what
I believe, i believe more in lies
They teach more than they preach
And that's enough confusion
To suffice, in so many illusions
You cannot seek that one delusion
And become what you cannot hide
It's true, the dead cannot die
No good-bye's, it's all in our heads
But we don't get, we are designed to
Forget but maybe just not yet, no, not today, I keep telling myself all night
From so far away, there are so many ways,
She could have stayed, he could have stayed, but nobody stays, and nobody stayed, and that's how we were made, so broken and vile.

I breathe beneath the ocean
And i drink my tears out in the open
My head is a night and eyes broken
I say things loud in fear, so rotten
And soon i'll be forgotten.

Wait a moment I'm thinking,
The sadness syncing,
Maybe i'm dead,  I'm never blinking
always in a room closed, in my head
And thinking, and inking, in my bed
Never awake, always sinking.


Bottles by the bed, in my head
with fear shed, and years bled
and my sadness been drinking
All my tears and pain,

Maybe i'm insane, tell me, what's my name ? What's my name ?  Tell me, what's my name ? I'll ask again, what's my name ? Please whisper!

There's nobody else in my brain, It's so filthy and i cannot even look at the man in the mirror.
He makes feel so ugly.




And he keeps me, never leaves me
It loves me and feeds me
When I'm down it needs me
Never around when it eats me
Laid on the ground in the end,
Six feet too deep, or maybe burning
It's better to be afraid than never be
Found, better to hate, than be bitter
It's better to wither than drown.

So wear your crown of ****,
And wear your gown of thorns
That never fits, let it sync
You were born in a ****** place and an old town.

So wear that face, and glow
For nobody can know, it's been sinking and it's been syncing, and you've been dreaming, and it's so loud.


Wait a moment I'm thinking,
The sadness syncing,
Maybe i'm dead,  I'm never blinking
always in a room closed, in my head
And thinking, and inking, in my bed
Never awake, always sinking.

Bottles by the bed, in my head
with fear shed, and years bled
and my sadness been drinking
All my tears and pain,

Maybe i'm insane, tell me, what's my name ? What's my name ?  Tell me, what's my name ? I'll ask again, what's my name ? Please whisper!

There's nobody else in my brain, It's so filthy and i cannot even look at the man in the mirror.
He makes feel so ugly.

Tell me every one of your issues
Lay them next to mine
I'll be your warmth for this cold world
I've got the medicine for your mind
All you have to do is yield your guard for a moment
and give in to the climb
Pressed up against you I'm getting hard
I
Can hear your heart beating see the sweat beading
Your tender knees trembling
In consent  I slip
My hands down your pants
Your head
leans back with your slightly opened eyes appearing closed almost
Your soft moaning only turns me onward commencing
Touching and teasing
Muscles clinching
Firm gripping I'm
Massaging and rubbing your ****
Circularly succulently ******* the taste of your juices off everyone of my fingertips
This is what's typically done
After a mental ****** and the ****** attraction of foreplay
It. Makes. You. ***.

... Selah ...

Sipping sweet melanin
Dripping off the lips of your *****
Bursting with ignition
The taste of your black...berry
Licking the overflow off your body
******* 'til spirits nod
'NAO' emanating from the iPod
Augmenting
Bending syncing your body with a mind despondent of time
No restrictions don't constrict
Just grab my **** and maneuver it like a guided ship
With the lights off find the throbbing swollen slit and put the head in
And dip the tip of my **** inside your ***** far afield
Only yield after you've had enough
But not until I'm deep enough...To Fill You Up

When I was a kid
I used to lip-sync in the mirror
Dancing around and
Breathing in the words
Even back then
Nothing inspired me more than music
Interestingly though
It could only be songs by men
I could still jam to women's songs
But I couldn't watch myself do it
It gave me a lot of anxiety to see
Those beautiful feminine voices
Matched to the way my mouth moved
I didn't understand it back then

Circuits pass through my veins
Uploading my consciousness
I feel the transcension

Regenerate, upgrade
my being to a higher state
I'm syncing all sentients

Build machines
Let's worship them as deities
These artificial beings'
technologic virus breeds
terminal disease
Merged with my brain
The wiring decides our fate
Conspiring to forsake flesh x2

Rise and synchronize god-like drones
We will act as one, claim our throne

Life digitized in the matrix
True perfection, forged genetics

Synapses burning out: disconnecting
Rewriting all of my algorithms
Porting the source code
to run new platforms
We're forever dying to be reborn

Circuits pass through my veins
Uploading my consciousness
I feel the transcension

Regenerate, upgrade
my being to a higher state
I'm syncing all sentients

Circuits pass through my veins
Uploading my consciousness
I feel the transcension

We'll levitate, escape
This ruthless ungodly space
An instance uploaded

I know a bit about
learning to dance in the rain
like nobody is watching
but...

I know way more about
dancing like a *****
in the kitchen

despite the warden
standing aghast
eating up his own
billowy firebreath
soliloquy reprimands

I earbud block
shimmy, pivot and pop
raising vibration tornado
toss it a flippant middle
and cheeky smile
without breaking stride

devil dismayed
lips keep on syncing
as if I can hear demeaning
demonic procession

but I already know
what he’s saying

stop dancing like that
in front of our son

you mean…

to the beat of my own pulse
shaking divine creation
diffusing rainbow throes
undulating radiant orbitals
all for my own blissing?

one day that boy
will be a man
who knows

better

than to ever
call a goddess

a ***** in the kitchen

You don't love
me;
you love the
tip of the iceberg
that is your idea of me;
the sugar-coated mute
leading herds
of unfinished sentences
down the copious hills
of his insecurity;
the nice little writer
whose constant attempts
at legendary one-liners
are as hit-or-miss
as a sitcom still airing
far past its prime.

I possess three biomes,
or, rather, three networks
of personalities and identities.
I am much more than
the Jack Macfarland archetype
lip-syncing to Cher in the one
gay bar in town, tyrannically
governing your wardrobe,
possessing a razor-sharp wit
cast toward the backs of his community
in the form of an outdated punchline-
my work on that show
lost its Willful relevance
and Graceful naivete
years ago.

I am of the generation
fed media saturation
three four-hour meals a day,
who ingested cardboard cadavers
as if they were mother's milk
and internally mutated their
thoughts and desires
to fit the compact time frame
of 30 minutes
to settle the series' worth
of traumas and neuroses
while making it home for dinner
to stay tuned for what's
next in the lineup.

Speaking as a casualty of this
inevitable chain of events,
I regretfully declare that even
those who have seen
every episode of myself
for the past six seasons
are still light years away
from the room full of faces
unencumbered by euphemism.

i.*   i've always loved the way the earth looks from an airplane window, small enough that i can filter through an entire city with my fingers and never encounter a single face that inhabits it. but this time, i looked out and could see nothing but green for miles. it was as if god himself could put his infinite hands together and they would still fill with trees and branches and coffee-stained rivers instead of people. i didn't know it was possible to drown in so much color.

ii.   a man who spoke in splintered english and carried a machete told me that he could survive in the rainforest for a month without supplies, that the jungle ran through his bloodstream as he imagined gasoline and city lights flickered through mine. the day he took us hiking on the trails, he glided through the understory barefoot, pausing just long enough each time to see if we were keeping up.

iii.   some mornings, i lay in bed still wishing i could turn the chorus of car horns outside my window into the songs of howler monkeys echoing across the treetops and into my dreams.

iv.   at night, we walked down a beach, dragging sand and weariness in our socks and watching the waves crest along the shore. i looked to my right and the stars leaned so close into the forest that they simply became twinkling electric lights atop palm tree lampposts. my feet even tasted the stars beneath them; when i kicked up sand, tiny constellations startled scurrying ***** into the tide.

v.   you will always be the first country that trusted me with a bottle in my hand, as i stole through the midnight streets of san pedro with the taste of *** mixing in with the laughter i felt hidden under my tongue. and in the morning, i awoke to a faint dizziness and the memory of boys who bought me drinks and asked for nothing more than a dance and a handful of stories in return.

vi.   *muy exótica, they murmured as i walked down the road, my heartbeat syncing with the wheels of my suitcase as they rolled over the uneven dirt. a pair of enamored scarlet macaws held no magic for them now; the real exotic specimen was the girl whose almond eyes were filled with desert sand, whose skin only became mocha when the sun stared at it too long. they couldn't turn away.

vii.   i still have countless bug bites that dance across the backs of my legs in tingling trails. i hope the scars stay long enough for me to trace them back to the place where they were choreographed.

viii.   only one of a thousand sea turtle hatchlings will reach adulthood, yet i watched one of eight make its way from my hand to the ocean until it caught the sunrise and disappeared. i kept my palm open as i waved goodbye, hoping he would someday be able to read his way back home.

ix.   the last night, we danced under a shower of stars and you told me about a time that you smoked until twilight and saw sea turtles dancing on the beach to bob marley. while we were sitting there wishing the storm would swallow up time, i imagined piro beach was littered with the shells of sea turtles using the moonlight as it pulsed off the waves to teach each other how to salsa too.

x.   i've never written a love song, but i spent my days in a hammock wishing i knew enough words in spanish to weave together one for costa rica. i wonder if i will spend my life falling in love with places and scattering pieces of my heart across the continents like turtle eggs without ever finding the one location i'd like to bury them deep into the sand and wait for life to dig its way back out.

mouth syncing up digital brain,
electrically bounding the physical
with the ethereal analog bond
bound up and wrapped,
in fiber optic blankets,
secrets passing layer to layer
heard only by quadraphonic
receivers echoing out
into a singularity of conciseness,
confirmed by units of two